Her Last Memory

by C. A. Wittman

  "So you can't surf if there's no waves," Dylan shot back.

  Taylor narrowed her eyes at him. "Dylan, this is an a and b conversation, so why don't you c your way out of it?"

  “Original,” Dylan scoffed. “Where'd you get that tired line? Oh, I know, Boyz N the Hood?”

  Taylor's face colored and her slim nostrils flared. "Hey, freak show, Steve does have a life, and it doesn't involve you glued to his side every second of the day."

  "Hey, you guys, come on," Steve said with a groan.

  "You're telling me to come on?" Dylan placed his hand on his chest and glared at Steve.

  "You know what I mean."

  "No. I thought I knew, bro. But I guess I don't."

  "Come on," Steve coaxed again.

  Dylan held up both his arms in a don't-shoot gesture and shook his head before placing his foot on his skateboard. "Whatever, dude. It's your funeral." He pushed off then, Taylor glaring at his retreating back.

  Julie spoke up. She had a slightly nasally voice. "Okay, are you coming or not? Because this is, like, so not fun right now.” Serene noticed that she dragged out the word fun, so it sounded like fun-nuh.

  "Babe," Taylor said, sticking out her bottom lip. "Come on. Let's go have some fun in the sun."

  Steve glanced at Serene. "Want to come?"

  Taylor and Julie seemed to freeze in place at his offer. But then Taylor recovered herself and tossed her feathered hair back.

  "Sure, why don't you come?" She gave Serene a small smile, her eyes traveling from Serene's head to her toes and back again.

  Serene shrugged. "I mean, if you don't mind."

  Taylor put her hand on her hip. "No. We don't mind, do we?" She turned to Julie, who had picked up with her gum chewing in double time.

  "Yeah, whatever, there's, like, room and stuff."

  "Shoots." Serene flipped her skateboard up with her foot, tucking it under her arm.

  "Let me go get changed," Steve said.

  "What about you?" Taylor said to Serene when she made no move to walk across the street to her house.

  Serene glanced down at the surf trunks she was already wearing and her Billabong T-shirt. "I'm good."

  "You don't have, like, a swimsuit?" Julie asked, looking mildly scandalized that Serene would think of going to the beach in the attire she was wearing.

  Serene waved her hand over her shorts. "I have dakine."

  Julie wrinkled her nose.

  "The kind?" Taylor's blue eyes widened as if she were lost in too much foreign dialect.

  "Board shorts, sis," Serene snapped. Calling Taylor sis immediately felt wrong as soon as the word left her mouth, and she suddenly felt out of her depth, wondering if she wanted to go anywhere with these uppity girls. Taylor wasn't a sistah. She was a rich haole bitch.

  "What happened to your leg? I bet that scar’s got a story." Taylor said of the wide pale line that shot across Serene's right shin, branching out like a streak of lightning. Serene stiffened.

  Julie cracked her gum and crossed her arms impatiently. "We still have to stop by your place," she said to Taylor.

  Taylor threw her arm around her friend. "Relax, Jules, the beach isn't going anywhere."

  "Yeah, but the sun is."

  Serene contemplated changing her mind; the idea of spending hours with these girls was growing more unappealing by the minute. She had yet to make any friends at her new school other than Steve and Dylan, although sometimes she chatted up Steve's little sister Carrie, who was a cool kid. While her crew at home was mostly made up of boys, she still had a few close girlfriends. Kanani had sent her a couple of postcards, and Serene had sent Kanani a longish letter back. They'd talked on the phone a few times, but long-distance calls were expensive. What it really came down to was Serene missed female companionship. Most of the girls she'd met or observed in Culver City were not the type she could draw a breath of interest in. Back home, Serene had lived in the same valley as Kanani, their houses no more than a ten-minute walk from each other. Kanani's household was chaotic and crowded with four other siblings and always a cousin or two staying for a month or a year. So Kanani hung out at Serene's, often marveling over Serene's weird hippy parents and making her laugh with her dry humor and sharp cracks, usually at Darpan's expense. On Maui Serene had freedom. Someone was always going to the beach––a parent, an uncle, an aunt, an older brother or sister. Most everyone had pickup trucks. Kids would pile in the back, wind whipping their hair as they sped along Hana Highway to Ho’okipa or Baldwin Beach, typically, or even just to Twin Falls, a short ride away. Here in LA, Serene felt cooped up. She glanced at her house and thought about bailing on Taylor and Julie. However, spending the day at home seemed equally unappealing. She could always skate… maybe Dylan would want to go to the courthouse with her.

  Steve came bursting out of the house, dressed similarly to Serene, a look of relief washing over his features when he saw she was still there. As he bounded down the steps, his dad Ron, poked his head out the door and then stepped out.

  "Be back by four," he said. "We have dinner plans at the Schwartzes’." His dark eyes swept over them and lingered on Serene, lips tightening slightly.

  "Hi, Mr. Bates," Taylor called out, waving as she bounced on her toes. Ron's face softened and he waved back.

  "Hi, nice to see you, Taylor."

  "Likewise. We'll have him back on time."

  "Alright, you kids have fun."

  "Bye, Dad," Steve said and got into the backseat of Julie's car. When Serene went to get in alongside him, Taylor gave a little laugh.

  "Do you mind? I'd like to sit next to my boyfriend." Her tone was sugary with a hint of an edge.

  "Oh. I just thought because you were already upfront," Serene said as Taylor nudged her out of the way and slipped in.

  "No worries." She beamed a smile and then shut the door. Through the window, Serene watched Taylor nuzzle the top of her head under Steve's chin. His green eyes caught hers for a moment before she turned away to climb in the front. Julie's car smelled of air freshener, lip balm and Hawaiian Tropic.

  * * *

  Taylor lived ten minutes away at Green Valley Circle. When Julie parked, Serene thought they would all just wait while Taylor ran in to grab her swimsuit, but Taylor told them to come on up to her apartment. It was going to take a few minutes because her mom was home and apparently lonely, especially since her dad had recently left them. Serene thought this was too much information, Taylor's personal life none of their business, but wordlessly she followed the other three through the secured entryway and into an elevator that took them up to the third floor and opened on a long dreary hallway. They waited while Taylor fumbled in her purse for her keys. The first thing Serene noticed when Taylor opened the door was how tacky her place was. The living room had too much furniture competing for real estate on the generic brown carpet. A leopard print sofa took up half the space. The rest of the square footage was swallowed up by two god-awful pink sequined gilt chairs and a massive antique varnished coffee table. Framed photographs littered the walls to the point of creating a stifled claustrophobic feeling. The four of them could barely get through the living room, squeezing past the furniture. Serene realized she had Taylor pegged wrong. She wasn't rich, just pretending to be. Taylor sashayed her way through the narrow gap of space, a look of pride having settled on her heart-shaped features.

  "Mom!" She yelled and turned to grin at them.

  "In the kitchen," her mom yelled back and then came out, all smiles and sexiness, her clothing matching Taylor's. Abby Davis had feathered her hair like her daughter's, and it was dyed blond, the roots a light brown. Her tank top showed off a belly that once knew pregnancy and now contained itself to a small doughy ball of fat hinting at occasional indulgence. Her long legs were just beginning to crater with the dreaded cellulite that covers of supermarket magazines were forever zeroing in on. The sort of picture where you just saw the legs and the caption read, “Guess Who This Is?” Abby had the same hea
rt-shaped face as her daughter and brown eyes instead of blue. She wore the same pink lipgloss.

  "Hi," she said. Her eyes jumped with delight from one to the next of them. "I didn't know you were having your friends over. I would have put out some snacks or something."

  "We just came up for a minute," Taylor said with a wink and a little smile. "I need to get my suit. We're going to the beach."

  "Good idea," her mother said. "It’s a great beach day."

  "Mwah," Taylor puckered her lips at her mom, making the kissing noise, and her mom returned the gesture. Serene thought Taylor's mom seemed far from lonely or sad. And then it struck her as Taylor left them, skirting around her furniture. She'd brought them up here to show off. Taylor wanted Serene to see what a cool young-looking mom she had. Abby hugged and kissed Julie and Steve like they were all peers and complimented Julie on her nails.

  "Thank you," Julie drawled. “I just had them done yesterday. Marla always does such a good job.”

  "I'm Abby." She held her hand out to Serene, who took it.

  "Serene. I live across the street from Steve."

  "Oh. Taylor mentioned you," she said. "You're great on a skateboard. Apparently, all the boys are coming to you for lessons."

  Serene was a bit taken aback at her statement. Abby's smile was genuine and open. There was nothing spiteful or hidden in her remark. Serene felt surprised that Taylor had anything good to say about her.

  "She's practically a boy herself," Julie said in her bored way.

  "Oh." Abby's voice rose up as if she were startled. "Well, that's okay. It's so nice how people can be themselves these days."

  Serene wondered what she was talking about.

  "She's not gay," Steve said. His mouth twisted in a disapproving way. But then he glanced at Serene, frowning. "Right?"

  Serene shook her head, no, feeling confused. Abby did this little fluttery thing with her hand and one of her eyes half closed. "I've got some cokes in the fridge," she said. But Taylor returned, the red strings of her bikini snaking up out of her tank top, tied in a bow at the back of her neck.

  "Let's go," she sang out.

  "Oh, you're leaving?" Abby's face fell.

  "Steve's gotta be back by four for a dinner thing," she said to her mom and kissed her cheek affectionately. Abby's face lit up with a love that Serene found momentarily mesmerizing. She had never had a look like that from Ramani.

  16

  Barbara - February 2020

  * * *

  The surface of the ocean held a glossy silvery quality reminding Barbara of mercury. Laird ran across the recently combed beach toward the hillocks of water rolling to shore, crumbling into white froth. Sheena scampered by his side, tongue lolling. Sara and Jesse in matching blue one-piece suits followed at a more sedate pace. Snorkeling goggles rested atop Jesse's head as he scowled up at the grey sky. Barbara trailed behind all of them, wondering if she even wanted to be at the beach. It wasn't hot, maybe seventy degrees. Tera said the overcast would burn off and it would get a lot warmer in the next hour. Laird splashed through the white water. Sheena plunged all the way into the waves and then returned to shore, running circles around Laird, making him laugh hysterically and pulling a smile out of Barbara despite her pensive mood.

  Once she'd begun thinking about her mom last night and the amnesiac state she was in, Barbara couldn't stop brooding about her. She picked up her gait, passing her siblings, who were laying out their towels. Tera still had her beach bag over her shoulder, letting Laird have this moment.

  "Hey." She said, eyeing Barbara. The wind whipped a strand of her reddish-brown hair across her cheek and she tucked it away behind her ear.

  "I think I'm going to head back," Barbara said. "Would you be okay with all of them? If not, I can stay."

  "Oh." Tera's shoulders slumped in slightly. "Everything alright?"

  "Yeah, no, I'm fine." Barbara forced a smile. "I'm just not really in a beach mood right now."

  Tera nodded and her eyes darted away toward Laird as she cupped her hand over her forehead to block the light. He squatted, digging in the sand near where the water petered out into a mass of dancing bubbles before receding back to its source as the next frothy bath came rushing forth. Sheena helped him dig.

  Tera focused back on Barbara.

  "I'm really sorry about your mom. I know this must be very difficult."

  Barbara felt herself stiffen. She liked Tera, but she didn't want to have this conversation with her.

  "She'll be okay." Her voice came out a little sharper than she had intended.

  Tera nodded and didn't pursue the topic.

  "So I'm gonna go."

  Tera nodded again. "Okay. We'll be back in a few hours. Don't worry about your sisters, I can watch all of them."

  "Jesse identifies as a boy."

  Tera blinked and looked crestfallen at her mistake. It was all new––him wearing dresses––only two months now. To be fair, they hadn't been over much in the last few months. Their dad had been swamped with work lately. And Jesse hadn't wanted to come by when their mother was in the hospital.

  "It gets a little confusing sometimes," Barbara said to smooth over her correction.

  "Right, but thanks for letting me know." Tera walked away toward her son.

  Sara squinted up at Barbara before unfurling her legs and getting up, her head cocked to the side. Barbara walked over to her siblings. Jesse was transferring sand from one hand to the other, his back hunched, hair blowing across his face.

  "I'm going to go back to the house," Barbara told them.

  He looked up and frowned. "Why?"

  "I'm not in a beach frame of mind."

  "Me either. Can I come with you?"

  "Stay here with me," Sara said to Jesse. "I want to stay, and it won't be fun if you leave."

  Jesse sighed. "Okay," he mumbled and returned to transferring the sand between his hands. Sara glanced at Barbara and their eyes met. Sara's seemed to say, “I get it, take some space.” The sisters shared a smile before Barbara made her way toward the highway. Up ahead on the hill sat the house, the massive windows glimmering in the distance.

  * * *

  "I told him there's no way he can get out of that contract without compromising his career." Steve paced the living room, texting while he talked. Barbara paused in the doorway, watching her father. At forty, he was still in good shape, lean, taut, brown from the LA sun. His dark hair, peppered with a few strands of grey, was still thick and full, and there was a cragginess to his features that added to his good looks in a way that Barbara thought only men seemed to benefit from. He glanced at Barbara, jumped, and then grinned, holding up his hand in greeting before his eyes darted to his phone.

  "He did what?" Steve growled, fiddling with one of his Bluetooth earbuds.

  Barbara sighed and went into the kitchen to make herself a second cup of coffee. Everything was clean and bright, all the dry goods stored away in neatly arranged glass containers in the blond wood cabinets. A glass vase of tulips rested elegantly at the center of the broad swath of white porcelain counter space, intersected by a stainless steel mini sink. Tera was somewhat of a neat freak. Everything was carefully organized and labeled. Dora and Erica were the same in that regard. Barbara opened the cabinet where all the coffee stuff was kept and pulled out the jar of whole beans to grind as her dad's voice got louder and then the conversation abruptly ended. He came into the kitchen as Barbara poured beans into the grinder.

  "Make me a cup too," he said.

  "Please," Barbara corrected him.

  "What?" He ran his hand through his hair, staring distractedly. He'd heard her make a sound, but his brain wasn't registering what she'd said. She was used to how distracted he’d been over the last several years. For a while, he'd been more present when he and Tera were dating. Since Tera and Laird had moved in with him, though, he'd fallen back into old habits of working too many hours and basically being physically but not mentally there. Barbara could tell it was star
ting to upset Tera. She could tell that Tera tried hard to be understanding, but how long would she put up with it before she'd start to pull away? Barbara was old enough to remember her mother going through the same dance with her father, and she got why she'd ended it, why she'd taken up with Erica, who seemed to have mastered the art of listening. Erica never interrupted and always kept eye contact during conversations. They asked a lot of questions and absorbed information rather than reacted to it.

  The collapse of her parents’ marriage had happened slowly, like a boat drifting out to sea. Sara and Jesse were only babies when Dora and Steve divorced. Barbara's siblings had no memory of them as a family, doing family things. They could not remember the movie outings, the visits to the roller rink, or their parents showing off together at the skatepark.

  Barbara turned on the grinder while her father frowned at the wall. No doubt he was thinking about some celebrity client who had become full of himself, giving everyone a headache. She spooned the fresh grounds into cones while the water in the electric pot heated up.

  "Dad?"

  He didn't respond.

  "Dad?"

  "Yeah?" The frown was still pasted on his face.

  "That girl, Taylor."

  "What girl?" He still wasn't with her.

  "The girl who died when you and Mom were kids."

  His attention seemed to snap back like someone releasing the tension of a rubber band, his focus now entirely on Barbara, eyes laser-sharp.

  "What about Taylor?"

  "Do you think Mom knew something more about what happened to her than what she…" the words died on Barbara's lips as her father's eyes narrowed, the pupils contracting into black dots.

  "Who have you been talking to, Barbara?"

  His tone was even, modulated––the tone he used when he questioned people.

  Barbara felt a chill sweep over her skin. "No one. I did some reading about amnesia, and sometimes if a person experiences something really traumatic in the past that they haven't processed and then they get a shock, it can trigger amnesia."